In 1931, four people, including Glory Conway, escape the political unrest in Baskul, China by boarding a plane, bound for Peshawar. The plane, however, much to their dismay, has been hijacked and eventually crash lands deep in the far reaches of the Tibetan Himalayas. Seeking shelter, the group soon finds themselves in the valley of the blue moon, guests at a lamasery, called Shangri-La.
Reading this is like stepping slowly into a hot, fragrant bath while strains of your own audio preferences delight; lapping against your tired muscles as you immerse yourself deep within its hypnotic scent. Even silence has a melody.
Though I have no specific memory of having read this before or having seen the movie, Hilton’s story is very familiar to me. More legend really, it transcends its medium, provoking deep, meaningful thought on spirituality, love and life’s purpose.
The water is just warm now; I have long since found my sweet spot and I tarry, reluctant to leave this precious paradise.
Be sure and read what gave birth to this legendary utopia.